


Wait

by in_motu_proprio



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/F, character injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 07:51:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9113713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_motu_proprio/pseuds/in_motu_proprio
Summary: Steve has admired Natasha for some time, now it's moving past a professional admiration to something more.  Takes place between Age of Ultron and Civil War.





	

Steve/Natasha at the Avengers base.

 

It wasn’t like Natasha wouldn’t heal, but Steve knew he’d clipped her hard in sparring this morning. Steve hadn’t meant to, and he felt like a total ass for hurting her. Barton warned him about sparring with Natasha, that she fought dirty, but Steve didn’t anticipate just how dirty. There was nothing off limits with her and maybe that was part of what he liked. Natasha fought every fight like it was life or death and Steve thought there was something admirable about that. 

He went out and bought her flowers and a box of Russian tea cakes as an apology, hoping she’d accept it. He knocked quietly on her door, hoping he wasn’t going to disturb her. The door opened almost immediately. Natasha stood there in a tank top and shorts, her hair still wet. It made her clothes cling to her and Steve could clearly see that she wasn’t wearing a bra. He looked away, telling himself that he wasn’t a total cad for looking but that he had to be respectful. “Steve?” She looked tired and he could see the livid bruise on her arm. 

Her eyes fell to the flowers and she smiled a little bit. “I wanted to check on you. And bring you these. I’m so sorry.” Steve held out the flowers and tea cakes, face hopeful that she’d accept his apology. 

“You didn’t have to do this, but thank you. Would you like some tea? I just made a pot and you really need to try these.” Steve nodded and followed Natasha in. Their rooms were the same size, though Natasha’s were decorated a lot nicer than he’d done his own. “Sit down.” She indicated to her couch, a compact piece that seemed quite old. Steve was almost worried to sit on it, that he’d break it. He sat regardless, trusting her to know her own furniture. 

She returned with a teapot in one hand and two mugs in the other. “Sugar, honey, lemon, milk?” 

“Milk and sugar, please.” She gave him a look that said _I knew it_ before heading back to the small kitchen to bring back three out of the four. Instead of the table sugar most people used, Natasha’s were compact brown squares. It reminded him of the sugar he’d had, albeit infrequently, when he was a kid. She added one to her cup and a generous squeeze of fresh lemon while he fixed his with milk and sugar. “So are you ok?” Steve nodded to her bruise while he took his first sip. It was rich black tea that was almost too strong on its own, but was perfect with milk. 

“I’m fine. It’ll heal.” She brushed off the injury without a thought, going back to her tea. “That was sweet of you, though.” Natasha opened the box of tea cakes and held it out to Steve to pick first. “Jam, honey, cream, and chocolate,” she pointed out. Steve picked out one of the jam cakes, giving it a sniff. 

“It smells like orange.” Natasha nodded as she selected one of the cream cakes and bit into it with a deep groan. It was clear she didn’t treat herself to these very often and it was nice to know that she enjoyed them that much. “Oh… that is really good,” he agreed after taking a bite. 

“Here,” Natasha handed him half her cream cake. He traded her half of the jam one he had. Again, deep groans of appreciation. “How did you know I liked these? Lucky guess?” 

“No,” he shook his head. “I saw you having one a couple of months ago. Clint brought you a box.” Her face lit up a little at the mention of Clint. 

“You remembered that?” 

“You openly smiled, so yes.” Natasha looked amused and touched. Maybe that look hadn’t been about Clint at all. “I’m glad I did. These are delicious.” Sometimes Natasha looked at him like he was a meal, and Steve felt a little uncomfortable, but he tried not to make a big deal out of it. “So how is Clint’s baby?” That shifted the subject and Natasha pulled out her phone to show him a dozen pictures of Clint and his family. “Lucky bastard,” Steve said enviously. 

“You could have that.” 

He looked at her and shook his head. “I think we both know that’s not true.” For either of them a family would be a liability. Natasha turned the phone screen black with a touch of her finger before sitting back against the cushions. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Her eyes flicked his way and he registered how much she was hurting over that little comment. In a million years he’d never have thought Natasha wanted a child or a husband. He’d just always seen her as wanting to do what she did. Steve reached out and patted her knee, hoping she would take it as a reassuring gesture like he meant it. 

“It is what it is,” Natasha said evenly before she took one of the chocolate tea cakes. They were silent a moment and Steve wondered if he should leave her alone. “Have you met Carla yet?” They were there again, Natasha trying to get him a date. It made Steve uncomfortable, so he rolled his eyes at her and poured another cup of tea. 

As the pot got lighter and Natasha ran through her list of potential dates, she stretched out, resting her legs across Steve’s thighs. “I’m going to ask you a question and I don’t want you to flip out. Whatever the answer is, it doesn’t matter.” Steve’s brows twisted together, not knowing what the hell she was talking about. “Steve, are you gay?” 

He blinked a few times, trying to decide if he’d heard her right. “No… I’m not gay,” he looked at his chest instinctively, wondering why in the world she’d have thought that. 

“You’re sure? I’ve gone through the list of every available woman I know and you want nothing to do with any of them.” She threw her hands up and shook her head. “You don’t have to be celibate.”

“I’m not,” Steve pointed out. 

“Bullshit,” Natasha challenged. “Spill if it’s true.” 

“I don’t kiss and tell, Natasha. I met her in a coffee shop and we talked for a long time before she invited me to her place.” Natasha poked her toe into Steve’s thigh hard. “Stop that.” He smacked her foot and continued, trying to maintain his integrity while relaying the story. “We spent a few hours together and parted ways.” 

“God, you make sex sound like a business lunch.” Steve flushed deeply at her jibe. “So how long ago was that?” Now Steve flushed even redder. “Around the time you came out of the ice? Oh, Steve.” Natasha reached out to squeeze his arm. “You know you could have pretty much anyone in this place, right?” 

“That’s really not the point,” Steve countered, nervously reaching out for a tea cake. Natasha’s legs stopped him, though, and he felt her shifting closer. “Natasha, I….” She swung up into his lap, straddling him and pinning his hands to the couch behind him. He dropped the tea cake and she smirked at him. 

“So what is the point?” He was uncomfortable with her being in his lap, with her pinning him like that… but he was a man and she was very close and very beautiful. “Oh, there it is,” Natasha said with a grin as she wiggled in his lap. That was not fair. That was not fair at all. He freed his hands and gripped her at the waist to move off of him, lifting her up and setting her on the couch as she laughed. Again, not fair. 

“Natasha, I don’t think it’s a very good idea….”

“Relax, Steve. It’s just sex.” _Just sex,_ that was something Steve didn’t think he’d ever get used to. He wasn’t some puritanical guy, but he also was very uncomfortable with how overly sexualized things were these days. “Offer’s on the table if you need it.” Natasha stood up and picked up the teapot. “Want a warm up?” And like that, it was over. She went back to the normal Natasha he knew, but the sensation of her in his lap didn’t fade for days after they had tea. He’d look at her while they worked, remembering how light she’d felt in his lap despite the amount of power she actually had. 

Two days later he was watching her teach a class to half a dozen agents on how to use their lower bodies to take a man down. “Do me a favor….” was where it started. It ended with Natasha pinning him to the ground with her legs around his neck. She had him tied up with a garrote in no time flat and Steve wasn’t really pulling his punches. Why was it turning him on that she had him tied up and was choking him out with her thighs? She hopped up, looking around. “Remember that,” she told her students. “It’s all about leverage and speed. They don’t expect it. Use surprise to your advantage. Now go to the gym, you’ve got an hour of cardio and lower body work to do. Dismissed.” 

She hadn’t tied off the garrote, so he managed to get out of it while she was talking. Natasha held out her hand to help him up, thanking him with a little nod. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” She reached up and ran her fingers over his windpipe and then down to his clavicle. He felt frozen as her fingertips just barely brushed his skin. 

“Fine,” he spat out before stepping back. “I’m fine. Glad to help.” He jogged backward, begging off because of a prior commitment that he didn’t have, just needing to get away from Natasha before he thought too much about how his cock was responding to being subdued by a woman. No, not any woman. Just Natasha. Steve tried very hard not to think about it, but he and Natasha spent a lot of time working together to train their new Avengers. Not only that, they discussed the new Avengers and what they were planning for the day each morning over breakfast. He’d watch her pack away at least two plates every morning full of protein and fruit. He was good for a couple of plates himself, but he liked the pancakes and weird egg dishes that the kitchen staff came up with. 

That was where he saw her next with two big plates of food, sitting at their typical table in the mess hall. Steve tried to be normal, tried not to think about how it felt to have Natasha pressed to him. He had to hold his tray a little lower than usual, but he managed to get to the table without incident. She had a rundown of the day along with some suggested training exercises for each Avenger trainee. Today she had a grapefruit she was working on with a spoon and a little bit of sugar. That was distracting because he got to watch her hands work and her face give that delighted pop of surprise at every sour bite. Her head was down but Steve knew she saw him. “What have you got for me this morning?” Natasha slid over a report without saying anything. She was reading her own with one finger up to ask him to wait before he said anything else. Steve did, trying not to watch her as her eyes sped across the page. 

“Morning,” she finally said when she was done making a note in the margin. “We have three potentials to talk to today. This thing with the Inhumans….” She ran her hand through her hair, making it go a little crazy before it fell back into place. “There’s this girl in Jersey City that needs an eye kept on her and we might also work on recruiting Bruce’s cousin, Jen.” 

“I didn’t know Bruce had any living family.” Steve was surprised he hadn’t heard of this before. “… is she…”

“Big and green? Sometimes. She’s got it more under control than Bruce.” It was clear from the look on her face that Natasha really was worried about Bruce. They were all worried about Bruce. “And Stark is coming by tomorrow. He wants to look at some of Fury’s specs.” Natasha was an incredible right hand and Steve was grateful to have her. He was also grateful that she was wearing one of her looser shirts today. It helped keep his mind on business. 

“Busy couple of days then. Who are we sending out to talk to the Jersey City girl and Bruce’s cousin?” They went back and forth until they came up with a plan, arguing lightly when it came to talking about the girl in Jersey City. “She’s too young.” Natasha’s brow rose. “And you said she just recently got her powers?”

“So did Wanda,” Natasha pointed out. “And, for the record, she’s far older than I was when I started.”   
“You’re a unique case,” Steve pointed out. “I mean… uh…”

“I know what you mean,” Natasha said, letting him off the hook for potentially being an insensitive jerk. “I still think someone needs to talk to her. Maybe we send in Carol if this girl’s calling herself Ms. Marvel. That is if we can get a hold of her. We just don’t want a S.H.I.E.L.D. team landing on her doorstep and scaring her entire family. Too bad there’s not an Inhuman Welcome Wagon.” They sat there and talked about the day for awhile, leaving so they got to the gym before their pupils. That was when the problem really started. 

Natasha might have been wearing a loose shirt in the mess hall, but when they got into the gym, she pulled it off to reveal a tank top and yoga pants. He could not do this. Natasha was his peer, his partner, his right hand, and most of all his friend. She took the recruits through their paces, doing that Natasha thing where she motivates without opening her mouth. All she had to do was look at Sam and he sped up on his jog. “I’m taking them to the roof,” Natasha told Steve. “You coming?” He pulled himself out of thoughts of how toned Natasha’s thighs were under the yoga pants and nodded. “No wings, first one to the roof gets the coffee drink of their choice on me tomorrow.” Steve wouldn’t have thought that would be motivating to people who could buy their own coffee with no problem, but the four of them were off at a breakneck clip, competing because it was fun. She did that sometimes, pushed them to have fun now because she knew damn well that the world wasn’t always fun and could sometimes be downright brutal. She’d told him once that little moments of happiness could get you through a lot, and she said it with a look on her face that spoke of knowledge through experience. 

The day concluded with Sam and Rhodey taking Wanda for rides and asking her which could fly better. Natasha watched with her arms crossed. The light was filtering through her hair just so and Steve had to look away when she glanced at him, knowing his thoughts were written across his face. Maybe she had something when she said _it’s only sex_. But Steve couldn’t imagine anything being _only_ with Natasha. He was totally unfocused so it surprised him when Rhodey grabbed him and started flying. It was good, though, it took his mind off of her. Sam got into the mix and he flipped back and forth between them, putting on a show but mostly just trying to clear his mind. He hit the roof, rolling to stop himself before popping up. “Alright… see you guys tomorrow. 8 am.” 

She and Steve started cleaning up, picking up mats and towels. They never let the others help set up or take down. It gave him and Natasha a time to debrief and sometimes spar. Right now all Steve wanted to do was clean up so he could spare himself some embarrassment. Thinking about Natasha in the terms he’d been thinking about her in were unacceptable. He needed to squash it before it became more. “I can do this if you want to go,” Steve said. 

That seemed to be all she needed because a moment later Natasha was less than a foot from him, glaring. “Whatever this is, this distance and those weird looks, it’s got to stop.”

“I didn’t mean to….” 

“Shut up, Steve.” Natasha wrapped her hand around the back of his neck before she pulled him in for a hard kiss. It was far more intense than what they’d shared on that escalator, especially when Natasha shoved him into the wall. “Whatever is going on in that head of yours, you need to get a grip. You were staring at me half the day and your lessons were crap this afternoon. Hell, you didn’t even notice when Rhodey came at you. Wake up.” She hit him in the chest hard enough to steal his breath before she walked away to get the last mat. 

“Natasha,” Steve said, his hands pressed to the brick behind him. She looked over, brow up. “I’m sorry. You’re right. You’re totally right,” he came over to her. “I have been distracted by you.” He reached out to touch Natasha’s elbow. “I’m very sorry and I’m going to get myself under control.” 

She let out an exasperated sigh, reaching up to touch his cheek. “You’re an idiot.” She patted his cheek then walked away, almost making it to the staircase before he caught up with her. 

“Natasha, please….” His hand wrapped around her wrist, finding it delicate in his hand. “I really am sorry.” Her eyes searching his as he stood there, her hand shifting down to take Steve’s hand. “I shouldn’t look at you like I do, but since we’ve become so close it’s hard not to. I….” Natasha leaned up to kiss him again, this time not nearly so hard. He sighed deeply when her hand sunk into his hair, Steve’s whole body pressing into hers. It only took a moment for him to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her in even closer. 

“You need to stop thinking about this in terms of forever. I want to sleep with you,” she shifted her thigh to rub up against his cock, “and clearly you want to sleep with me. We’re both consenting adults, Steve. So either let’s go back to my room or you need to get yourself together. I’m not going to wallow in this, so either do something or get over it.” Steve froze, staring at her for a long time before Natasha just patted him on the cheek and left. How was it he could be incredibly brave when it came to jumping out of a plane or facing an enemy, but he couldn’t bring himself to cross the line between friendship and physicality… romance. Maybe that was the problem. Steve saw this as romance and Natasha saw it as sex. He didn’t _just_ want to have sex with her. Steve genuinely cared for Natasha, and out of all the people he knew, it was her he could see himself with. Natasha’s depth of spirit reminded Steve of Peggy sometimes. 

Steve went down to the gym late that night after he tried just about everything to fall asleep. He was frustrated and blocked enough to need to punch something, but before he had a chance to, he heard someone else using the room with the LMDs. Steve avoided going through by taking a running start and jumping to the second floor balcony that overlooked the gym. He watched in real appreciation as Natasha took on three LMDs without any issue. Did he mention she was doing it under very low light and with her bare hands? He watched as she ripped the things apart, coming down in a fighting stance when she was done. It wasn’t often he got to observe Natasha without her knowing. Hell, who was he kidding, she probably knew he was there. 

Steve stayed very still as he watched Natasha reset herself and call up the next program. This time it was two LMDs who were a hell of a lot more vicious than the last bunch. She pulled out the knives meant for the LMDs and went to town. Steve was always amazed by what Natasha could do, how she used her body in hand to hand combat. LMDs didn’t bleed and they didn’t cry, but by the time she was done with them it looked like maybe they were trying to do both. She wiped her brow with the back of her arm and called the lights up a bit as she started to stretch out. That was when Steve realized how much trouble he was in. All Natasha was wearing was a sports bra and a pair of those very tight exercise pants that meant he could see every inch of her backside outlined perfectly. Steve was not a prude contrary to what most people thought. He liked looking at women, but that didn’t mean he was ok with ogling his best friend or objectifying her because of her clothing. 

On one level he knew that he was totally inappropriate, but on another he couldn’t chance looking away or she might disappear. Steve’s hand ran over the white t-shirt he was wearing, bunching it nervously in his fist as she bent and grabbed her ankles. A little bit of music came on for her and Natasha continued to stretch, going down into a full split and putting her ear to her knee. He watched her bare feet flex, noting that her toe nails were polished a deep burgundy. Steve knew he was getting hard watching her and he told himself he could feel guilty about that later because there was no way he could look away when Natasha stood and started to dance to the music. It was a quiet classical piece and Steve was stunned as she moved gracefully on the balls of her feet and tips of her toes. It took him a few minutes to work up the courage to look at her face, her eyes more closed than open, a real calmness in her expression. He felt like he was intruding, but the music and her movement made it impossible to go. 

It wasn’t until he felt the moisture hit the back of his hand that Steve realized he was crying. He couldn’t help but be moved by the way she danced. He didn’t know if it was perfect or if she wasn’t a prima ballerina, all he knew was that she was beautiful and she clearly loved what she was doing. Steve didn’t bother wiping away the tears as she moved, but he was able to clam up a bit once he realized that he could never tell her how beautiful she looked or how gracefully she moved because she’d realize he betrayed her by staying. Why was it so complicated to care for her? Why couldn’t he just be a gentleman about it and let this fascination and attraction fade? A few minutes later, Natasha finished her dance and sat down on the mat to stretch her torso. He slipped out then and went back to his room to squash the shame he felt with a very cold shower. 

She got called out the day after that and Steve didn’t see her for two more days. When she came back, she was covered in bruises and had a hell of a shiner. Steve asked what happened, but she gave him that Natasha look that said _if I told you, I’d have to kill you._ She didn’t skip training or even the morning 5K, but Steve noticed a little bit of a limp and how she got winded pretty early in the run. Natasha rarely got winded, but today it took her almost twice as long to make the run. By the end of the day, Natasha looked ready to keel over. She didn’t miss a minute of training and even went a couple of rounds with Sam to show him some of her flying kicks. 

Everyone started to clear out and Steve noticed that Natasha was standing very, very still over by the water cooler. He waited until everyone went to go check on her, approaching slowly so she’d see him. It was never a good idea to sneak up on a spy, especially one like Natasha. She glanced up, making eye contact for a moment before she pushed herself off the wall and turned to get more water. If he didn’t know her as well as he did, he wouldn’t have noticed the slight tremor in her hand or the incredibly tight press of her lips. “Got a cup for me?” She held out a cup and he took it, allowing his hand to brush hers. He didn’t intend to hurt her, but it was clear she’d injured her hand in the way she winced. “Sorry. Natasha are you…”

“I’m fine.” She stiffened up and her mask fell into place and she tossed her cup on her way toward the door. 

It might have been a bad idea, but he couldn’t let her leave without trying at least one more time. He reached out to catch her arm, barely squeezing before he got a little gasp. “Ok, that’s enough. You’re coming with me.” Steve watched her struggle for a few moments before she nodded, shifting closer to him. This close he could really see the color in the bruises on her forearms. The rest of her was covered, full exercise pants and a t-shirt, far more covered than she usually was in training. Steve shuddered to think about what was waiting under the fabric. Whereas usually he’d have to fight the thrill of seeing more of her, now he was worried about what he’d find. He held the door to the locker room for her, watching her pass, posture exhausted. Steve locked the door to give her some privacy before heading to the massage table. 

“Come sit up here.” He helped her onto the table, brow raised. “Can you tell me what happened?” Natasha shrugged. “Do you want to tell me?” She held his eyes for a moment then shook her head. “That’s fine. All I need to know is what hurts.” That was when Natasha reached to the hem of her shirt and pulled it slowly up and over her head. What he saw was a patchwork of bruises and contusions. “Oh Nat.” His fingers barely touched a livid bruise on her arm, sighing deeply. 

“I think I fractured a couple of ribs.” Her eyes met his and Steve nodded, just taking in the picture of her from the waist up. It wasn’t exactly sexy, but entirely necessary.

“Let me get the first aid kit.” Steve left her, noticing how sunken in her eyes looked. Had she slept since she left here two days ago? He doubted it. By the time he came back, Natasha had closed her eyes and laid down on her back. He cleared his throat and she glanced over before closing her eyes again. “Is there anything… lower,” Steve could feel the flush and watched as her face seemed to war with itself. Eventually she reached to the waist of her exercise pants and pushed them down. She started to struggle when they got to her knees and Steve reached up to touch her hand, shaking his head. “I can finish.” He carefully peeled the pants back, noticing that she’d wrapped her knee in a brace as well as both ankles. What was the most troubling to him though, was the deep bruising up and down the insides of her thighs. She had to have been in agony during the run. He should have stopped her earlier, but he honestly thought she might punch him. She had that determined look on her face that screamed _do not interfere_. Maybe he should have. 

“You don’t have to…..” Now it was time for Steve to speak with his eyes, his hand taking hers and holding her gaze. She looked away again and Steve felt his heart tug hard for her. Like this she looked so young, so damaged. Hell, weren’t they all though? Steve pulled out the heavy duty bruise cream and opened the jar. It was pungent as hell, but he knew from experience just how good it was. Steve took the time to warm the salve in his hands before he started to apply it gently to her bruises. Steve started at her right shoulder, working his way across and down slowly. He made sure to cover the entire bruise and made sure he used touches that would barely register on uninjured skin. On Natasha’s skin as it was, she’d feel it. He just hoped it wasn’t too painful for her. 

“Once we finish up with the bruise cream, will you stand for a quick scan?” Tony had made this small room you went into after a fight. His program would make the computer scan you and assess any internal injuries. With bruises like the one peeking around Natasha’s side, he wanted to be sure she wasn’t bleeding inside. She seemed to be weighing the question heavily before finally nodding. It was clear she didn’t want to, but was willing to because she wasn’t an idiot. She might not seek out medical attention right away, but Natasha wanted to know if she had any broken bones or internal bleeding. Before that, though, he had to finish up with those bruises. “I… “ His hand rested lightly on her thigh, keeping it low. “Would you prefer to put the ….” She shook her head and that was how Steve ended up with his hands on Natasha’s thighs for the first time. They were exactly as strong as he thought, the skin swollen and bruised as it was, still led him to believe that it was virtually unblemished. Steve pushed thoughts of the physical away because he was not an asshole. 

He took his time on her front side then did the same on her back, watching how shallow her breaths got when he touched over her lower back. He couldn’t imagine who would have hurt her this badly. Steve had seen Natasha face dozens of men without sustaining this kind of damage. Or at least he thought he had. Had Steve ever really seen her after a big fight? In New York they’d gone their own ways, after D.C., he was in the hospital, and after Ultron, he’d been focused on building their team. “Was it worth it?” It took her a moment to realize what he was asking her, but after a little deliberation, she nodded. “Good. I’d hate to think you took a beating like this for something that wasn’t worth it.” He used the clean back of his hand to move her hair aside, clearly able to see a man’s handprint on the back of her neck. Steve was glad she wasn’t looking at him when he discovered it. 

When he finished, Steve picked up one of the heavy white cotton robes and held it up for Natasha to wrap herself in. He also took a moment to pull her hair back and clip it to the back of her head. She was swaying a little on her feet by that point, and Steve urged her toward the scanning room. Once she was seated and the door was closed, Steve let the machine do its job. It only took a few minutes, and when it was done, they knew that Natasha had fractured three ribs and had an bruised kidney. The computer guided them through wrapping her torso to stabilize the ribs, and she listened to the computer tell her how to help her kidney. Steve listened too, hell bent on making sure he helped her take are of herself from now on. Clearly Natasha was too stubborn or too proud to ask for help, but maybe she’d let him help now and then if he just did it. Right now, though, she was letting him so Steve took advantage of it. He gathered her clothes then gathered her and headed toward her room. 

He didn’t just leave her at the door, though, Steve helped her in and made her sit on the couch while he made her tea. “You make tea like an American,” Natasha teased. She’d curled up on the couch, head resting on the back so she could watch him in her little kitchen. “Didn’t you learn anything overseas?” 

“Guess not,” he said with a wink. He picked up the tea cakes, but she shook her head. “… have you eaten at all today?” Her look said it all. Maybe she hadn’t eaten in as long as she hadn’t slept. “Could you manage soup?” Her jaw was bruised, so maybe chewing was the problem. He opened and closed her cabinets, finding a couple of packages of curvy noodles with foil packets of flavoring. 

“Shrimp one,” she directed him. “Toss an egg in when it starts boiling.” That was good, Steve thought. At least she was hungry enough to make a request. 

“Chives?” In a couple of minutes the water was boiling and Steve was chopping up some chives and cabbage. She made him put enough on for both of them, and Steve couldn’t help but feel pretty proud that she’d gone from not speaking to him to having dinner together. Granted he would rather it have been off the base and without her smattered in bruises, but it was still good that they could sit down as friends like this. “Couch or table?” 

Natasha pulled herself up and headed to the table as her answer, sliding past him to get some toasted sesame seeds and a bottle of red hot sauce from the counter and brought them to the table. Bowls of piping hot soup landed a few minutes later, and Steve found the pleased look in her eyes well worth the effort he put in. “Grab us a couple of beers?” Steve opened his mouth to protest but her look stopped him and he just got the beers. Sometimes you just needed a drink and if anyone deserved it, Natasha did right now. Plus, one beer wasn’t going to tip anyone over the edge. Was it? “Cold glasses in the freezer.” Steve brought the frosty glasses and two beers to the table where Natasha was inhaling deeply over the steam her soup was emitting. 

He uncapped both the bottles, but she took it from there, pouring each out into a frosty glass so that there was the smallest amount of foam. “That’s a perfect pour,” Steve said. He was clearly impressed and Natasha rolled her eyes and handed over a drink. “A thing of beauty should be recognized.” Steve might not be able to get drunk, but he liked a drink now and again because it complimented the meal or because a friend wanted to share the moment. “Thank you.”    
“I’m not the one who cooked.” She had her first sip of soup and groaned. Steve thought she was exaggerating, but if she hadn’t eaten in awhile, maybe this would be really delicious. Steve had his first bite and admitted that it wasn’t bad. Maybe he’d pick up a few of those soup packages the next time he went to the market. “Thank you for cooking.” Steve smiled and they ate for awhile in companionable silence. Every once in awhile one would look at the other, and it wasn’t until Steve had finished his soup that he noticed Natasha was dozing off over her half-finished soup bowl. He got up and rounded the table, urging her to her feet. Natasha didn’t resist him when he pulled her in for a hug, actually wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his chest. She was beyond exhausted and must have been in horrible pain, but she’d forced herself to keep on going. Right now, though, she didn’t resist as he picked her up. Natasha was surprisingly light for someone as strong as she was. Where did she get her power from? 

Steve laid her down, but she wouldn’t let go. “Stay.” A shock of electricity went through Steve when she asked. Her hand touched his chest, eyes searching his. Natasha was desperate for connection right now, for someone to hold onto. “Please.” How could Steve resist? 

“Let me take my shoes off.” That was the only reason she let him go. Steve sat on the edge of the bed and Natasha’s hand moved to his back. She wasn’t stroking or trying to get his shirt off, she just laid it there like she was reminding herself that he was there. With his shoes off, Steve climbed into Natasha’s bed. She slid under his arm and laid her head on his chest. It was incredibly intimate and while Steve _knew_ this wasn’t sexual, the warm press of a beautiful woman into his side did make his pulse quicken. “Ok?” Natasha nodded and squeezed him around the middle before promptly falling fast asleep. Steve didn’t bother trying to slip away, and though he couldn’t sleep, he found it restful to have her settled in next to him. 

She didn’t wake up for a few hours and that gave Steve the chance to look at her. There was no doubt that Natasha was a beautiful woman. Everything about her seemed just right to the eye, but there was so much more than just the surface. Even now, fast asleep, she had an energy that Steve found soothing, His fingers moved slowly, watching her face as he gently stroked over the strands. Her hair was soft, though she had worked out all day long and had been sick so he didn’t think he was touching it at its best. Despite that, he kept stroking, watching her face as it turned a little so he’d keep stroking her hair. Steve did that through most of the night, stroking her hair or over her shoulder. 

Steve must have drifted off to sleep while they laid there, because when he woke up Natasha was looking down at him. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” she returned with one brow raised. “You stayed the night.” 

“I didn’t mean to?” Natasha rolled her eyes and then came back down to rest her head on his chest. She was moving with more ease, shifting over to partially lay across his leg, her forearms braced on his chest. “I could go.”

“Do you want to go?” 

Steve thought about it for a second and shook his head. “No.” He reached up to stroke a few strands of hair from her forehead and tuck it behind her ear. “How are you feeling?” Steve didn’t take his hand away, just let it slide down her shoulder. Her black eye had come down quite a bit, and she looked almost normal when they fluttered closed at his touch. 

“I”m going to take a couple of days off.” Steve nodded, glad she was going to give herself a break. “I’m going to stick around, but I want to lay low.” She looked at him again, and Steve realized he was still stroking her shoulder. Even bruised, she had the softest skin he’d ever touched. “Will you come over for dinner?” The question caught him off guard, but he nodded. “You can keep me up to date. I can thank you for taking care of me last night.” 

“You don’t need to thank me.” Steve could feel the heat of her torso pressed into his, and it was the first time he really thought about the fact that Natasha was in only a sports bra and underwear. He could not let this become inappropriate right now, not with her and not when he was here to help her. 

“But what if I want to?” Her fingertips moved to the neck of his t-shirt, just barely stroking. His hand came up and curled around hers, her long, fine fingers pressing together in his palm. 

Steve thought about it, really thought about it and saw what this would be like. His mind flashed forward to touching her hip, to kissing her throat, to making her cry his name. “What time is dinner?” Steve slipped out from beneath her, getting a little distance so she wouldn’t see the outline of his heart against his ribcage like a cartoon. 

“I’ll plan for eight. Just let me know if your day goes pear shaped.” Natasha was watching him with her too-observant eyes as he pulled on his shoes. 

“Sure, but don’t go to too much trouble.” Steve did everything he could to tie his shoes and get out the door in a way that didn’t scream _I’m running away from you_ , but failed miserably. He might have even heard Natasha snicker when the door closed. What the hell was he going to do? It was 100% clear that if he went to dinner with her tonight that she expected things to get physical. But what if she was still hurting too much? What if she was doing this because she wanted to thank him? Steve’s whole day was littered with thoughts like that, all the way through going to the commissary to pick up a bottle of red wine and all the way through putting on four shirts before he picked the second one. Steve told himself at some point that maybe it wasn’t what he thought it was. When Natasha opened the door, it was one hundred percent clear that dinner with her was exactly what he thought it would be. 

Natasha answered the door in a really pretty dress. It wasn’t white, but it wasn’t pink, somewhere between with nice black lace on it. Steve didn’t know fashion, but he knew that he really liked the way the dress hugged her curves. She still had visible bruises, but she moved like there was nothing wrong. “You look….” Natasha stepped aside and he entered, unable to stop looking at her. The dress had no sleeves and held tightly around her décolletage. He swallowed thickly. “Wow.” It was all Steve could really say given how insanely beautiful she was right now. Hell, it was a miracle that he even got that out. 

“Good, you brought wine.” She took the bottle from him and walked away, black high heels tipping and tapping on the floor. Steve’s eyes ran over the black seams running up the backs of her calves and thought he might keel over. “I made fish.” She glanced over, catching him looking and smiled. Clearly she’d gotten what she wanted in his reaction. 

“I like fish. I mean… I eat pretty much anything, not that I think your food will be _anything_ , I’m sure you’re an excellent cook.” It turned out that he was right. Natasha didn’t respond, just walked over with a plate in her hands. She held up the plate and Steve inspected the offering. “Crab cakes?” 

“I figured if I was going aquatic that I might as well go all in,” she said with a shrug. “Sit down.” She nodded to the table. “Want to open the wine?” He did, opening the bottle at her direction and pouring them both a glass. “Did Sam use any of the…”   
“No work,” Steve told her. “If… well if this is what I think it is, then….”

“What do you think it is?” She had that coy edge to her voice. It was the verbal equivalent of a cat letting its prey go before pouncing on it over and over. Eventually the little mouse would have a heart attack and that was what it felt like right now. He fidgeted a little and tried hard to control the bright red blush clouding his skin. 

“I… uh I kind of thought this was maybe…. a … a date, you know?” Steve ran his hand through his hair, breaking up some of the product he’d used in it and also destroying the carefully constructed look he’d spent way too long getting just right. She let him spin for a few moments, her back to him as she checked a pot on the stove. “Just forget it. Let’s enjoy the meal.” 

“Does this being a date make it easier for you?” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “It’s fine if it does.” He nodded. “Then it’s a date.” Had she intended it to be a date to begin with? What the hell was going on? How could a woman who said so little be so damn confusing? “Steve… you need to breathe.” She left the pot and came over to him, reaching out to take his hand. Her knuckles were bruised and one was hidden under a bandage meant to protect badly scraped skin. “Come prepare some fennel.” She pulled him toward the table. “And then tell me what has your pulse going hard enough to see your veins pop.” 

“You. I’d think that part was obvious. You make me crazy.” He couldn’t even blame it on the wine. He hadn’t taken a sip and even if he’d chugged the bottle it wouldn’t have mattered. She nodded for him to go on as she passed over a knife and a white bulb with feathery green tops. 

“Trim the tops and clean them up a little. Then dice the root.” Natasha pointed out how he should prepare the vegetable before urging him to continue. “So I make you crazy? How so?” 

Steve steeled his courage and decided that it was time to lay his feelings out. It wasn’t going to be easy and it might not end pretty, but he needed to let her know and let the chips fall where they may. “I think about you.” He took a breath. “A lot. And it’s inappropriate. Not only are you my right hand, you’re one of my closest friends. Having feelings for you could make all of that disappear.” 

“Having feelings,” she prompted. That was the first time Steve noticed a little tremble in her voice. 

Steve reached out and ran his fingers down her neck. “Yeah. Feelings. Just… I didn’t just want it to be physical if something happened.” _If I was lucky enough to touch you._ “I respect you too much to use you like that.” 

“Believe me, Steve…. if we’d gone to bed it would have been me using you.” She seemed stricken by that and Steve’s fingers cupped her jaw, making Natasha look at him. “I think you want more than I can give.” Steve leaned in to kiss her forehead and felt the way she almost crumpled into him. For a moment her hands were nearly desperate on his back, bunching his shirt in her fists. 

“You can give me a chance.” His hand cupped the back of her neck gently, almost trying to take away the mark another man’s hand had left on her skin. “It doesn’t have to be more than you want.” 

“What if I don’t know what I want.” Steve could understand why the physical would have been easier for Natasha, and it hurt that she struggled with the emotional side of things as much as she did. Steve had asked Barton about her once, and all he’d say was that she was ‘real screwed up’ when they met and that she’d spent a fair amount of time with him and Laura at the farm before she was ready for the light of day, so to speak. Clint had intimated that Natasha had a very difficult time trusting men on more than a surface level, but that if he stuck with it she’d soften. Clint was right, but Natasha’s softening seemed to hurt her. 

“Then maybe I lead for a little while. You trust me out there,” he nodded to the world at large outside their door. “Trust me again.” His fingers moved to her jaw again then to trace her bottom lip. Natasha’s breath caressed his fingers as Steve leaned in slowly. He gave her all the time in the world to pull away before his lips made their way home. She’d kissed him a few times. Hell, they’d even had a bit of dry humping, but this was a whole new world. It was soft, his dry lips just barely pressing to hers for a few moments before he carefully slid them to cup her bottom lip. Steve didn’t know if he knew what he was doing here, or if their fears were justified, but he knew he needed more than just Natasha’s body. 

She took a moment, but eventually seemed to mark her agreement to his request with that kiss. And boy oh boy was it the sweetest yes that Steve had ever gotten in his life. With Natasha pressed up against him, he felt like something amazing was about to happen, like a unique new part of his life was about to begin. Her fingers curled around the back of his skull, sunk into his hair, and Steve’s whole body felt like it had the chills. He broke apart from her slowly, going back several times for slow pecks that left them both pink cheeked and swollen lipped. “Can I help with anything other than the fennel?” Natasha looked bewildered for a moment. “I don’t want to let all your hard work go to waste.” He smiled and kissed her forehead again. “We have plenty of time.” As soon as he said it they both started glancing around the room. The moment it was out of his mouth, he worried about jinxing them, and clearly she did as well. “God willing,” he ended it with, giving Natasha a _hope that helps_ look. It seemed to because she went back to the meal, bending to check the fish in the oven. 

“You never tried the crab cake,” she pointed out. Steve immediately rectified that situation with a healthy bite followed by an explicit groan of pure appreciation. 

“That’s … Natasha. Oh God that’s so good.” It was clear that she took pleasure in cooking, and great pleasure in seeing someone enjoy it. “If that’s a preview of things to come, I can’t wait to try the rest of the meal. He had the opportunity soon enough when Natasha came over with a bowl filled with spinach salad. One thing was better than the next, but what was really incredible was the way they were talking. While he knew Natasha was supposed to be in her twenties, she seemed to be far older than that most of the time. 

She talked about dancing and he talked about spying through the windows of the New York ballet once when he was a kid to watch rehearsal. “I could leave the Red Room when I was dancing. They would take us out to train in the real world and use ballet as a way to disguise who the girls really were out in the field. But we got to see the world outside the Red Room and that was worth bloody feet.” She broke her fish apart delicately, the flaky white meat and spices making a careful trip to her berry red mouth. Steve was transfixed by her voice, nodding along as she talked about seeing Red Square in Moscow for the first time. How old had she been, he wondered but didn’t want to interrupt her while she was in the middle of a memory. She was playing quiet classical music over the speakers in the room, and she pointed out that what they were listening to was Sleeping Beauty, one of her favorite ballets to dance. 

“I would love to see you dance,” Steve said quietly. He felt guilt for spying on her now, and wondered if he should tell her. 

“… again.” He flushed. She KNEW! “It’s ok. I don’t mind as long as it’s you.” She touched his hand softly and he turned it over to hold. “Next time come out of the shadows.” She gave his hand a squeeze before taking hers back to continue eating. “Do you want more of anything.” And like that she changed subjects. Natasha tended to do that, finish what she had to say on a subject and casually shift the conversation. As it was to his benefit this time, he gratefully let it go. 

“Is there more fish?” She stood and brought his plate with her, filling it up with a little bit of everything. “Thanks.” 

“I made extra.” The implied _I know how much you eat_ hung there for a second. She sat back, crossing her legs as he dug into his second plate. “Tell me more about spying on the ballerinas,” she challenged gently and Steve blushed. 

“… it was Bucky’s idea,” Steve pointed out with a bittersweet smile.

“Oh I’m sure everything was Bucky’s idea,” Natasha teased. “Such a cop out.” 

“No, really. He said the girls wore tight pants and you could see a lot. I hadn’t seen a girl like that yet and Bucky was sure it would help my asthma. I swear,” Steve held a hand up in promise. “It didn’t. I ended up having a huge attack when they started bouncing up and down on their toes.” Natasha snickered and sipped the end of her wine, her smile worth any embarrassment he was feeling at the moment. “Needless to say, it was quite some time until I got to see a scantily clad girl without Bucky making sure I had my asthma cigarettes.” Her brow shot up and he explained the idea of the asthma cigarette, something meant to get treatment down into your lungs before the days of inhalers and nebulizers. 

“… makes sense for the time, I suppose.” She sat with him while he ate, refilling his glass with wine as a ruse to steal a pinch of his fish. “This did turn out well,” she commented and Steve agreed. “Glad you like fish. I figured I was taking a chance.” And then they weren’t talking about fish at all. “I’m usually pretty conservative about who I cook for.” 

“I’m glad I got the privilege.” Steve stood up and took both of their plates. She went to protest, but he was having none of it. “You cooked,” he pointed out. “Let me at least clear the table.” So she sat there and sipped her wine while he cleared the table and put the dishes in to soak. He was bending over to wipe the table down when he felt her hand move up the back of his leg from knee to upper thigh then back down. Steve closed his eyes and relished the sensation before he turned to look at Natasha. 

“Thank you.” And again they were talking about more than just cleaning up. Steve knew, but he also knew that any mention of it to her would explode the fragile situation. “Let’s go sit on the couch.” She rose in one fluid motion, holding his gaze the whole time. She took his hand and Steve left the rag behind and followed her. She sunk down into the couch, knees pulled up under her while he sat a little nervously next to her. “Relax.” Her fingers ran over the back of his hand. She turned it over and held it in her lap with both her hands as her thumbs traced the lines. “Hmm,” she said, nodding at his palm. “You have a split lifeline.” 

“Natasha… palm reading?” 

“Oh relax, it’s just one of those things I was taught to lead potential marks.” He looked at her, a little concerned. “Would I tell you it was a way to lead potential marks if you were my potential mark?” She seemed slightly insulted, so Steve drew back just a little.  
 “Sorry. It’s just jarring sometimes, hearing you talk about your spy skills so casually.” 

“Leading a mark is hardly a spy skill. Everyone does it, they just don’t realize it.” Natasha leaned in to kiss Steve’s jaw. “Spies hardly corner the market on deception and manipulation.” Her tongue trailed over the thick rope of tendons from his ear to his neck. “Let’s stop talking about our jobs.” Steve could easily agree to that and pulled her up for a kiss, mindful of her injuries. It was a real kiss, slow and deep with Steve’s hand buried in her hair. He pulled out pins and let it down as his fingers trailed gently over a bruise on her shoulder. 

Natasha sighed and shifted against him, her breasts pressing into his chest firmly. Steve wanted to be a gentleman, to take things slow, but he could not stop touching her right now. Natasha’s dress rumpled as he pulled her over to sit on his lap. It wasn’t to be dirty, well maybe a little, but more to get her closer. That was all Steve could think about right now, getting Natasha close and keeping her that way. It wasn’t going to be easy now that he’d opened the floodgates. His fingers ran down her shoulders to her hands and then back to her shoulders as his mouth ran over her throat. “I’d like to take you to bed,” Steve told her softly, his hands stroking down her back. The lace on her dress caught on his fingers just a little bit. 

She slid off his lap and offered her hand. The bruises on her arms had dimmed a bit, but they were still there and he worried. But Steve couldn’t stop himself from pulling her close in a slow kiss. Natasha felt so good in his arms, fitted against him like a puzzle piece. She stepped back after a moment, reaching behind to unzip her dress and give it a little push over her hips. Steve watched as she revealed her underclothes. “Wow.” She stepped out of her dress, heels clicking as she shifted. Steve watched the way her waist cincher hugged her and, likely, also helped brace her ribs. It sat under her brassiere which matched the panties and garter belt in a pale gray. 

Natasha wasn’t beyond modeling for a moment, and Steve wasn’t beyond gawking. Sure she was covered with bruises, but she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “I thought you were going to take me to bed.” Steve grinned, reaching out to take her hand, pulling Natasha close and getting a little groan from her. “What? Now that you’ve caught me, you don’t know what to do with me?” 

“Oh, I’m well aware of what to do with you,” Steve told her softly as his lips ran up her throat. She tasted salty and he could smell the wine on her breath and the lemon from the fish on her fingertips. “But we don’t need to rush.” His fingers ran over the laces on the waist cincher, not undoing them, just giving them a little twang. “We leaving this on?” He just needed to know because his fingers longed to touch bare skin. She nodded. Clearly he was right about the brace for her ribs. His fingers came up to the closure of her brassiere to flick it open. She held one hand between her breasts to hold it to her even as he slipped it over her shoulders. “Shy?”

Natasha looked down, blushing a little as his fingers gently pulled at her brassiere and slid it off of her entirely. Steve’s fingers ran down the outsides of her breasts, eyes staring at her without any trace of the worry he had early on. She was so beautiful, so perfect even with those bruises. Steve was careful, fingers gentle over the mottled blue-green of her bruises. “I’m not going to break.” 

Steve kissed her slowly, fingers softly stroking through his hair. “That doesn’t mean I can’t treat you with care.” He noticed she looked away when he said that, her eyes going watery before she blinked it away. Instead of saying more and upsetting her, Steve decided to show her instead of saying anything more. Steve wasn’t very experienced with women, but he knew enough to be able to run his fingers over her breasts in a way that made her shudder. He kissed the spot halfway between shoulder and nipple and moved his way down. Her voice whispered his name like it was a precious thing and Steve scooped her up. 

Natasha’s thighs closed around his waist as they moved, her arms around his neck. It was no difficulty for him to hold her with one arm under her bottom and the other around her back as he kissed her and carried her off to the bedroom. She’d lit a few candles around the room before dinner, that much was clear by the pools of wax reflecting the flames. He held her like that for awhile, working his lips over her throat and up to her mouth. They were both groaning and whimpering by the time he finally laid her on the sheets. 

They were soft and smelled like her. Steve could easily have stayed there just kissing her, but Natasha used her weight and strength to turn them so she sat on top. Steve did not mind because the view was incredible, not to mention the feeling of her rubbing that burning heat against him was driving him insane. He could feel it through his pants, through his underpants even. But he didn’t have to worry about that for too long because the next thing he heard was the jingle of his belt unfastening. “Natasha.” She looked up, meeting his eyes as her hand moved between the layers of fabric to grip him. The look was pure challenge and Steve’s hands came up to squeeze her backside just to get her to rock again. 

It took very little effort to get her moaning when his lips ran over her breast. He turned them so he lay on her, pushing his pants down just to get closer. He kicked them off and ran his hands down her hips. The silky edge of her undergarments ran over his fingertips and eventually he chanced it, tugging just a little at her garter belt. “Steve,” she reached up and cupped his face. “It’s alright.” Clearly he looked nervous and Steve did his best to get that off his face. She didn’t need to think he was second guessing anything. Her legs unwound and she bumped him up with her hips so she could shimmy out of her underpants. Steve knelt back so he could watch, groaning as the fabric moved down inch by inch. She was taking her time, making him sweat it for a moment before bringing her legs straight up, pressed together. She pulled them off and tossed them to the side, parting her legs so she could wrap them back around him. 

That was the first time he saw that part of her body. He was certain that it was outdated, but she opened to him like a morning glory in the sun. His thumbs ran up the insides of her bruised thighs as gently as he could, unhooking the garter belts. The bruises there were still bad, but with a feather light touch, she was trembling in a good way. He was determined to make her feel great, to try to take some of this ache away with pleasure. Steve pulled the garter belt off and carefully removed her stockings, kissing down the insides of her legs as he did. Despite his lips running over her skin and his fingers tugging off the fabric, his eyes remained stuck to her body. He couldn’t stop looking at her, devouring her with his eyes. Natasha seemed almost shy about it for a moment before her libido took over and she started stretching and shifting against him. 

“Off,” she tugged at Steve’s underpants, a simple white pair of boxers, and Steve couldn’t really argue. Her tongue ran over her bottom lip as she looked at him, clearly excited by what she saw. Her fingers wrapped around him, nails gently scraping before they settled in. 

“Natasha.” He could barely breathe when she combined stroking his cock slowly and sucking on his nipple. Steve knew they were sensitive, but he had not idea just how until she was gently nibbling around it. “Wow.” She laughed, a sound he came to love over the time he got to know her. It was something so rare he honestly treasured when he got a laugh from her. “I’m funny?” He ran his mouth over the inside of her arm, nipping. “I’ve been called a lot of things… “ She continued to laugh, her fingertips running through his hair as her hips urged him on. 

It was bare skin to bare skin, the push of his hard cock against her slick folds. He wasn’t in her, just rubbing against her, letting her body wrap around him and get him nice and slick. Her laughter turned to gasps as the head of his cock played with her clit. It was a word and a concept that his only other lover since the ice taught him. He’d seen girls touch it and certainly noticed it the few times he and a chorus girl had bedded down during the bond tour. He just figured it wasn’t as important. Boy was he wrong. His fingers ran between them so that his thumb could rub around it, getting her to twist her mouth around his name in a truly desperate way. 

“You… meant it,” Natasha gritted out as his thumb focused on a spot just to the left of her clit that made her body jump and her breath catch. “Taking your time.” Steve nodded. “You’re killing me.” Steve smiled and just kept it up, bringing his mouth to her breast. He had learned that a girl had to be slick for things to feel good for them, that much had been pretty clear after the first finger he’d pressed into a girl who’d been dry at the time. His hand had gotten slapped and the whole thing was ruined. Steve wished he could touch every inch of her, but that waist cincher was still between them. He knew it was necessary, but that didn’t stop him from thinking of a time when she wouldn’t need it. 

Steve shifted, pulling away. Her legs tightened around him until she realized what he was doing and let them fall apart. Steve shifted, laying down on his stomach so he could run his lips up the inside of her thigh. He didn’t pause, boldly wrapping his lips around her clit. She cursed and reached down to grip his hair, pulling but not in a _stop_ way. Steve listened to what her body was telling him and eventually she was crying his name as two fingers worked into her and his mouth kept up its work on her clit. He could feel her body clamping down, contracting hard against his fingers as she came, giving Steve a feeling of real accomplishment. 

“Enough waiting.” Steve agreed and glanced around. Where had his pants gone. He reached down for them when he spotted them at the foot of the bed, his hand pulling out a condom a moment later. “You don’t have to.” Steve looked back. “Birth control.” Something in her eyes said it was more than that, but there was no way in hell he was going to ask. “Do it if you want, but I’m clean.” If she was clean and pregnancy wasn’t a concern, then why use one? Everyone said it was necessary these days, but not everyone had his metabolism. 

“You’re certain?” Natasha nodded and it didn’t take any more convincing than that. She was still on her back, so Steve settled between her thighs. He took his time kissing her as his hand moved his cock into place. He took a moment, waiting for her to breathe out before he pressed himself in. He’d prepared her well, not to mention Natasha being a worldly woman, meant that while he went slow, there wasn’t really a need to. She groaned, hands running down his back. She was trying to hurry him with her thighs and fingernails, but Steve had resolve, waiting until he felt her body take as much as it could. It was good to get the lay of the land, after all. Her fingers reached into his hair, brushing it backward and giving him a chill that went down his spine, making him arch his hips and get a groan out of her. 

He did that for a little while, slowly figuring her out. Steve could see himself becoming obsessed with the feeling of her thighs wrapped around him. “Steve.” Her fingers stroked his cheek, bringing him in for a kiss that fueled every passion he had. He pressed his forehead to hers after the kiss broke, the air between them volcanic as they both fought for the same oxygen. “Steve,” her thighs urged him. “You need to start moving or I’m going to flip us.” Steve looked down at her and smiled, getting an echo of the gesture back from her. She held that look until he really started moving, being careful to keep her from getting jarred too much. He was still worried about her bruises and broken ribs even if she could care less. 

Natasha’s hands worked their way down his back to his backside, squeezing and urging him. no matter how hard she fought for him to speed up, Steve restrained himself. It might eventually kill him, but he wasn’t going to give up a second of this. Steve found himself incredibly grateful for having waited. He couldn’t imagine giving this moment up for anything in the world. She was looking at him with wide eyes, pupils blown inside a tiny ring of blue. His body rubbed against her and Steve watched her twist and squirm. “You are so beautiful.” She froze under him, her eyes flicking to him like she was an injured animal wary of her captor. HIs fingers traced her jaw as he leaned in to kiss her, hips slowing because he needed her to know he truly believed that. “I could look at you all day long.” His fingers stroked down the side of her breast before he covered it with his palm. “I’m close, Natasha.” 

Her hand reached between them, fingers paying attention to her clit as Steve sped up. He watched her, forcing himself to at least wait until the lady had had her pleasure. It turned out that the lady went off like a top and the moment her body started grabbing at him, Steve couldn’t hold himself back. He let out a string of curses before he shuddered and tried very hard not to totally collapse on top of her. “Wow.” He felt her nod, her fingers idly scraping up and down his back. Slowly they untangled, Steve rolling over onto his back with an _oof_. They lay there, side-by-side just breathing, for a long time. His fingers reached out to stroke her thigh and eventually Natasha rolled on her side and draped herself over him. 

Her fingers stroked down his chest, that burgundy polish reflecting in the low light. She didn’t say anything, just rested her ear on his chest and held on. Steve suspected that Natasha actually might not say anything at all so he just turned and kissed her forehead, stroking through her hair. He couldn’t see her face from the angle she’d laid at. Of course he couldn’t, Steve thought. It’s Natasha after all. “I’m glad we waited.” Her fingers stilled on his chest a moment but she picked up quickly. He knew she was thinking about it, and boy was he glad he waited for the little nod that said she agreed. Natasha was not a woman of many words, but if you listened with every part of you, sometimes you knew exactly what she needed.


End file.
